In The Rain
by Looking For A Silver Lining
Summary: Sherlolly fluff. Set post-RF.


**Me again! Yeah, don't own BBC Sherlock. Enjoy!**

He walked in, angry that he didn't wear a coat. Her cat lay on the sofa, staring at him. He had never liked that cat, but for some reason she adored it. He never knew why. He looked around the flat, eventually finding her in her bedroom.

"Molly," Molly Hooper ignored the familiar voice, certain she was hallucinating. She kept her head against the cool glass of her window, watching as the raindrops fell on passers by. She was looking out, a random hope, that one of them would be him, that one of them would be Sherlock.

"Molly," the voice was persistent. She closed her eyes and hoped this hallucination would go away soon. She always heard his voice calling her at the end of a long day. She always turned around, hoping that she would see the familiar dark curls and blue eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

"Molly, please look at me," Sherlock's voice was starting to rise. He wanted to see her again, smile at her again. "You aren't there. I know you aren't," Molly was still next to the window. She was obviously not going to turn around anytime soon.

Molly opened her eyes when she felt two strong hands on her shoulders. She turned around, waiting to see who it was. Maybe it was John. He had been coming round lately, talking to her about his work. But the eyes Molly saw were not John's eyes.

Sherlock watched as she turned around. He removed his hands from her shoulders and watched as her chocolate brown eyes widened.

"Sherlock!" Molly got up and hugged him, as if to test if he was real. She felt his wet shirt and stepped back.

"You need to get changed," Molly thrust some clothes into his hands. She had kept a few spare suits of his in her flat in case he ever turned up. He nodded and went into her bathroom.

When he got out of the bathroom, he found a coffee waiting for him on her coffee table. She sat on the sofa with the cat at her feet, stroking it. He sat down next to her, grateful for the dry clothes.

"Thank you Molly," his low voice sounded like he meant it. She turned to face him. "Your hair is wet. Come here," she grabbed a towel from next to her and motioned for him to lay in her lap.

She felt his head go onto her lap and she was suddenly happy that she had (supposedly) got over her crush on the handsome consulting detective. She swiftly towel dried his hair and when she removed the towel, she started running her hands through his hair, an action that shocked both of them.

He normally hated anyone touching his hair, but he didn't mind when he felt her hands slipping through his curls. She occasionally paused to twirl a finger around one curl, lightly tugging at the hair. He hadn't realised he had closed his eyes until he opened them and saw Molly's eyes closed as she kept running her hands through the silken curls.

Eventually, she stopped and he sat up. He smiled at her and she lightly blushed, before turning her head to look outside. Sherlock took this opportunity to take her hair out of the ponytail it was constantly kept in. He played with a few strands of it, marvelling at the texture of it and wondering at the smell of it.

Before she could respond, she felt Sherlock's breath on her shoulder and neck as he leant in to her.

She smelt like raspberries and vanilla, he noted, as well as something earthy. He was automatically curious as to what he smelt like.

"What do I smell like?" "Sherlock!" Molly wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. She turned back around. "What do I smell like?" "Sherlock, you smell of tobacco and ink."

He saw her laugh slightly, as if she were baffled and amused by the question he had asked. He studied her face, waiting for her to speak.

"Sherlock, I should head to bed," Molly stood up and quickly gave the detective a kiss on the forehead. "Molly, can I stay with you tonight?" "Of course you can." "I meant sleep with you. In the same bed."

"Um… Y-yeah?" Molly inwardly cursed. She hadn't meant to stutter at all. "Thank you," he kissed her on the cheek, and she blushed a deep red.

She got into bed, feeling his weight next to her. His arms reached out and she felt him shuffle towards her, holding her close to him. His face was buried in her hair; she was just trying to get over the fact that Sherlock had his arms around her. She closed her eyes and heard a muffled 'you are mine for tonight, Molly Hooper' before she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
